Rainbow Six Siege - One-Shots
by sty-ka
Summary: Since there's an alarmingly low amount of content for this fanbase (especially romance-wise), I figured I'd take it upon myself to fill the empty void in my heart and get some writing practice in as well. (originally uploaded to my Wattpad, 'Sty-ka'.)
1. Paint a Picture

Downtime was a a rare yet precious commodity for you. In the brief lapses of peace when it was possible to get away from everything, the forest surrounding base camp was an ideal retreat. Sometimes, it was good to separate yourself from the constant banter between your fellow operatives, and clear your head of their chattering - God knows they did enough of it on missions.

Some days, you weren't alone in your thought process. As you would hike through the forest, indents in the dead leaves showed footprints of others who had wandered among the trees before you. You kept silent, instinctive records on the patterns of such prints. So far, there were only a handful of recurring boot marks - the most recurring of all being from one very reclusive sniper.

You're slightly embarrassed that you shadow him, at times, on your walks through the forest. Glaz was always a source of curiosity to you - in a band of rowdy men, he was always in the background, a quiet and sincere voice of reason. And when he was alone? Well. You'd never spoken to him alone. It always seemed like an invasion of privacy to you, and the Russian had never extended any sort of invitation to join him on his walks. Sure, it might have bothered you a little, but a man's gotta have his privacy. Okay - maybe it was _slightly_ bothersome. But that's besides the point.

You had been trying to gather the courage to do this for a while. Multiple times you had stood from afar, trying to gather _some_ sort of idea of how to start a conversation with him, somehow warm up to the guy a little, but by sunset you had always returned to base feeling a strange sort of defeat. Frustration with yourself grew. Today, however, you vowed to finally confront him.

Picking your way through the twigs and undergrowth along the grassy floor, your heart beating a bit too fast for your comfort, you went over what to say to Glaz. A chitchat about how the previous mission went wouldn't hurt. Maybe talk to him about the scenery? Kapkan had told you that Glaz was an artist. What kind of art did he make? Hell, you didn't even know any Russian artists. Was he a fan of Rembrandt? Closing your eyes, you pause against the trunk of a birch tree, inhaling deeply.

 _Calm down, Y/N. Breathe. Glaz is a nice guy. He'll understand._

When you opened your eyes again, you noticed that during your internal rant you'd neared your destination. Several meters ahead was the shore to a large pond, teeming with waterlilies and the loud chirps of spring peepers. Dead trees sat half-submerged in the water. There was an odd beauty to the scenery - perhaps it was the fact that Glaz stood in front of it all, his silhouette backlit by the setting sun. He was a couple feet back from the pond's edge, motionless, and you found that every step towards him solidified your confidence.

You made sure not to sneak up on him (he was a skilled operative, after all) and instead made yourself known by the sound of your footsteps. Glaz turned his head slightly - his attention still on the landscape before him, yet acknowledging your presence. As you went to stand beside him, words finally began to form.

"Nice to see that I'm not alone in these woods, Glazkow." Your heart lifted at the confidence in your voice. Maybe this wouldn't be a disaster after all.

The sniper nodded, and when you glanced over, you saw that his face had been scrubbed of its normal camouflage paint, yet the rest of him seemed to be the same. Still wore all his combat gear - even down to the handgun resting at his hip. That was a source of amusement. You gestured at his sidearm.

"You're packing some heat. Planning to skeet-shoot some bullfrogs?"

Glaz's chuckle caught you by surprise. You'd never heard him laugh before. It was pleasant, warm. As soon as it had faded, you felt a sudden longing to hear it again.

"No," the sniper replied after a moment. He looked to the side, gazing out at the pond lilies. "I just like the protection. It makes me feel safe."

For a while, neither of you spoke - it was loud enough by the pond, and for a moment, you really do consider shooting a frog just to get them to shut up. Luckily, it wasn't deafening as it had been yesterday, and you could still talk with Glaz normally.

"So, you uh, paint?" You asked.

" _Da._ Acrylics, oil. Mostly landscape. Sometimes animals."

"No military stuff, then?"

Glaz shrugged. "I get enough of that. Why paint war when I've already experienced it?"

You thought for a moment. In a way, you understood that. War was not glorious. It was a necessary evil, not some pretty picture. This wasn't your first conversation with Glazkow - hell, you ran missions with him all the time - but you had never been so personal with him. Luckily, he seemed to be taking it well.

Taking a step forward, closer to the waterline, you pointed at the wetlands. "What do you see when you look at this pond, then? There's gotta be something about it that's portrait-worthy."

"Hm. Color is very vivid. Trees have nice form. The reflection of the sun against the water presents an interesting angle. What else..." Glaz turned, surveying the horizon, and finally his eyes met yours.

"Other components to the picture are quite beautiful," he managed to say, his tone somewhat shy. It takes a moment for you to realize what he is referencing.

Glaz's behavior suddenly made sense. The nervous laughter, the aversion to meet your eyes, the openness of his words...

 _Oh._ You rose your eyebrows, suddenly feeling dizzy. Even though it's obvious, you echo, "Me?" Before placing a hand to your own chest, as if flattered. As it turned out, you weren't the only one who had been nervous to start a conversation.

Glaz nodded. The sky had begun to darken, and the air was cooling down. Both of you had been thrown in shadow, but you could still make out the telltale signs of embarrassment on Glaz's face. You're more shocked than anything. Had it really been that obvious? Your observations, that look of longing whenever you glanced in his direction? And, more importantly: had he looked at you that way, too?

You're not sure what else to say, so instead you tentatively held out your hand. He gratefully accepted. After a second, he laughed again, silently, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm not all that sure how to go about this."

You tugged him a bit closer. Was he really this awkward around all women? Well, he acted just fine around IQ and the other female operatives. A strange triumph washed over you. Maybe you were the only one who made him this nervous - and in a way, it felt nice. Somebody caring about you, _feeling_ for you... "Just go for it, Glaz."

Glaz wavered. In the growing darkness, his eyes gleamed with quiet intelligence, and he gently pressed up against you. It was getting harder to see, but you definitely felt his body warmth, the brush of fingers to your waist. And then he paused, and glanced up, locking his gaze with yours. A question of affirmation. A request to continue.

You slipped your hand to his back and gave him a firm nod. _Yes._

The frogs had quieted down - everything had seemed to drop off the face of the Earth as Glaz took his time in teasing you. He was meticulous and patient, idly tracing the small of your spine while his other hand untangled from yours and made its way down to your inner thigh. You tensed at that - mostly from anticipation - but then his touch was gone, exploring another curve of your body. How could this bastard be so good at this, but not just talking to a girl? You guided his hand back towards the inner thigh, but he once again retreated.

"Not out here," he murmured.

You sighed. "Please. Where else are we going to do it - HQ?"

He seemed to fight himself over it for a second, then shook his head, murmured something distinctly Russian under his breath, and pulled you closer. Your back was against smooth tree bark, arms wrapped tight around Glaz. All the while, he whispered reassurances, chest pressed against yours, legs lifted against his waist. The nervousness in your gut, the insecurities that you had felt up to this moment - they all washed away into the forest's dying light.

A noise at the far side of the pond startled you out of your reverie. Glaz, hearing it as well, suddenly removed his hands from your sides, stepping back to gaze out at the opposite shore. For a heartbeat, neither of you said anything. He shaded his eyes, squinting. Was it another operator? It was hard to see anything in the dark. After several moments, however, Glaz identified the culprit, pointing towards a patch of dark in the water.

"Marsh deer," He muttered. "Nothing to be worried about."

You have to strain your vision to make out what he's pointing at, and even then, the thin silhouette of the buck's antlers is hard to recognize. You shook your head. "How the hell did you spot that so quick?"

Another noncommittal shrug. "Sniper's finesse."

You rolled your eyes, even though he was still looking out at the pond. " _Sure._ Well, at least it isn't the other Buck," you said, referencing the Canadian operator.

"Or Bandit," Glaz replied.

"Oh. Yeah, he'd do something like that." You watched as the deer waded through the pond, lowering its head to nibble at the grassroots. "I'd have to chase him down, and honestly, I really don't feel like running today."

The sniper looked over at you and winked, patting at his sidearm. "Wouldn't have to."

There was laughter from both of you as Glaz walked over to the edge of the water, as if to get a better look at the deer. It had been frightened by the noise and retreated back to the shore, staring outwards with curious eyes. He finally spoke, sincerity in his voice. "Perhaps," he began, "we should visit the woods more often. Together."

You smiled. "And do what? Paint a picture?" Glaz laughed again, the sound music to your ears. In some way, it felt nice that you could make him happy. He always seemed so tense at base - all of you were, really. Turning around, Glazkow started uphill, waiting for you to follow him back to camp. He extended his hand, and - without hesitation - you took it.

"Yeah," he said. "something like that."


	2. Sights

a/n: been sort of lacking motivation, but I managed to write this out. Trying something a bit out of my comfort zone.

"Hey, Jäger, do you happen to know  
where Bandit is?"

The question was not interrogative - Blitz's voice was casual as he entered the GS9's operation den. In front of him, both Jäger and IQ lounged at either end of a coffee table, a chessboard between them. Blitz smiled at the frustration on the engineer's face, then glanced over at IQ, whose eyes twinkled with amusement as she knocked one of Jäger's rooks into a growing pile of captured pawn. For the past three days, the two operatives had been at it, resulting in one of the longest chess matches Blitz had seen. He wasn't sure himself how or why the whole thing had started- most likely a drunken bet - but it was entertaining to watch.

Today, however, Blitz wasn't interested in viewing the match (IQ was going to win for the 5th time in a row, anyways). Instead, he stamped the snow off his boots, shutting the door behind him to cut off the wintry blast from outside. Tucked under his arm was a small, tape-bundled package.

Jäger didn't reply, instead glaring at the empty spot where his rook had been.

"Marius," Blitz repeated - this time using the operative's real name - "Where is Bandit?"

After a few seconds, awareness lit Jäger's face and he looked up. All of them were still wearing their tactical gear, but only Blitzs' was flecked with snow from the storm outside, his skin paler than usual.

Jäger shrugged. "He stormed off the moment we got through the doors. Probably still upset about his gun sights." Sitting back, the engineer folded his arms and resumed his gaze on the chessboard. "Can never tell what's exactly wrong with him, though."

IQ, however, was still gazing up at Blitz, a sudden directness in her gaze that made him uncomfortable. She had a quiet intensity to her look, and yet her expression was unreadable.

Leaning forwards, IQ gestured to the package. "Is that for Dominic?" she asked, and in her voice was an undercurrent of sympathy. Blitz's heart dropped - _did she know? -_ but then she was pointing towards the hallway to the left, face devoid of suspicion. "I saw him go that way, if it helps. I'd search the supply room first - that's usually where he sneaks off to."

The two then refocused back on their chess game, leaving Blitz to his own means, giving him no second thought as they dived back into the intense match.

" _Danke_ ," was all he managed, before heading down towards the specified hall, the package gently cradled in his arms. Before Jäger and IQ's voices disapeared entirely, he heard a loud exclamation from Marius, followed by IQ's giggle shortly after. The building lapsed into silence as the two faded from earshot.

The storage room was not that far into base. Huddled between two meeting rooms, it was a narrow corridor with file-holders on either side, a flickering overhead light being the only source of luminescence. As Blitz reached his location, he paused, resting his ear against the doorframe. Instinctive, he supposed. Hearing nothing, he pulled the door open, wincing at its creak.

Inside, the lights were already on, making it easy for Blitz to see the sleeping operative at the far end of the corridor. Bandit hadn't cared to strip off his tactical gear, much like the rest of the GS9 - his helmet was still on, as were his boots, bandanna, and vest. Must've been too tired to change, Blitz thought.

Standing at the entrance, Blitz shuffled his feet, unsure for a moment whether to intrude - both for emotional and safety reasons, as Bandit's one hand looked securely wrapped around his sidearm. Plus, Blitz sort of... liked seeing him this way. Bandit had his head down, body curled up against the wall, chest rising and falling with each breath. _If only he could be like this all the time_. _Peaceful, guarded - and not being a complete fucking psychopath._

Blitz took a tentative step forwards, and was immediately aware of the motion in front of him as Bandit raised his sidearm. With a startled look, Blitz froze, staring into Bandit's open eyes. Several moments passed - seeming like a lifetime - before the older man set the gun back down, putting a hand to his head.

"My bad," Bandit muttered, the drowsiness in his voice obvious. "Thought you were Marius, coming to dump a bucket of ice on me."

Blitz's face was pale as he relaxed his shoulders. "And if I was Marius? What were you going to do, shoot me?" He hated that his voice was coming out higher than usual, but he couldn't really help it - maybe this hadn't been  
such a good idea as first thought. He held the package protectively, drawing it closer to his chest.

Bandit exhaled through his nose. "Oh, come on now." He rolled his eyes and held out the sidearm, undoing the magazine and letting it fall to the floor - it clattered, creating a hollow echo. "There. No bullets in the first place. Does that make you feel better?"

It certainly didn't, but Blitz nodded anyways. Silence settled between them, and he took the opportunity to close the distance, resting his weight on the shelf closest to Bandit. It wasn't an ideal spot, but it was better than standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Bandit was quiet. He shifted his legs outwards, rubbing the back of his neck with a pained expression. Blitz was still watching him with a look of disapproval.

"There are perfectly good bunks in this base, you know," Blitz finally quipped, arms folded. He had set the package on the shelf below him, though he was sure Bandit had seen it already. Knowing him, he had been awake the second Blitz opened the door and had noticed everything since then. Bandit was like that: oblivious at a glance, but Blitz had grown to understand that he was the most attentive one of them all - just very good at faking it.

"The supply closet was closer," came Bandit's blunt reply. He had finally tilted his head up to meet Blitz's gaze, eyes soft, and Blitz found himself tensing at the way Bandit studied him. Moments later, Bandit squinted and asked, "How long have you been outside?"

Oh. Right - the snow on his uniform. Of course that had been what he was looking at. Feeling foolish, Blitz stared at the corner of the room. "About an hour. Maybe two."

"Hypothermia is a real thing, Elias."

" _Ja_ , because full tactical clothing will protect me from bullets, but not low temperatures," Blitz remarked, realizing that Bandit had called him by his first name a fraction too late - a move that suggested genuine concern. Pausing, he added, "Really. I'm fine."

That seemed to satisfy Bandit, but he was still squinting, as if trying to figure him out. Then, in a clearer voice than usual: "What's in the package?"

Blitz had been expecting this, but still found himself tripping over his first words. "It's - the package. It's for you. Actually, it's the reason I was outside in the first place. I walked to the post office and back. I know, I know -" Blitz sighed at the sharp look on Bandit's face - "-stupid, but I needed some fresh air outside of base." Blitz lowered himself so that he was crouching next to Bandit, eye-level, and set the package down on the floor.

"You still haven't told me what's in it," Bandit said, cautiously weighing the cardboard box in his hands.

"Well, that's up to you to figure out, right? Stop asking questions and open it already - I didn't walk three miles in the snow for nothing."

Bandit shrugged in response, reaching into his back pocket to bring out a switchblade. He lazily flicked it open and made a precise cut through the packaging tape, smoothing out the edges of the box and wiping off the excess moisture from melted snow. As he parted the foam casing, he halted, voice hesitant. "Are those...?"

Blitz nodded. "MP7 sights. Rear and front. Nothing different from your current ones, except these are professionally adjusted, so you can actually aim through them." When Bandit didn't respond, he continued, somewhat hasty: "I know you've been pissed off about your old ones, so I contacted one of the town's gunsmiths a couple days ago, asked about a replacement part. It's not much, but...hopefully, these'll last a bit longer. Think of it as a late birthday present."

"Well, this gunsmith has earned my respect," Bandit finally said, and Blitz was surprised at the tenderness in his voice. Bandit had gently lifted out the front sight, running a finger along the notches, face shadowed by his helmet. "Were Monika and Marius in on this as well?"

Blitz shook his head. "Just me." Before Bandit could thank him, he quickly added, "There's also something I've been meaning to ask you. For a while."

 _Alright, Elias, don't fuck this up_.

Taking a deep, rather shaky breath, Blitz forced himself to look at Bandit, who still wasn't meeting his eyes.  
"I - I've been wanting to set something straight, just between you and I. Alone. And this seems like as good as a time and place to do it." Blitz heart was pounding in his ears, and he forced himself to continue, swallowing back the rising apprehension in his chest. "Look, Dominic, we're squad mates. We've done a lot of operations together. And through that time, I've begun to feel a bond towards you higher than friendship, or even brotherhood. It's something else entirely. I don't know what to do about it, but I need to understand if you feel the same way - just so I don't get my hopes up too much." Blitz realized he had shut his eyes, flinching away from Bandit as if expecting a slap to the face, either literal or verbal. When neither came, he cautiously opened them, stunned to see that Bandit was gazing up, his face unreadable.

The nausea that had been building inside Blitz threatened to spill over as his voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm- I'm sorry if you don't feel the same." With Bandit's face hidden in the shadows, unresponsive, Blitz could only guess he hadn't taken the confession well. Waves of embarrassment flowed over the younger operator as he began standing to leave.

In a blink, a sudden hand at Blitz's shoulder yanked him back down, another pinning his arm to the tiled floor in a move that left Blitz immobile and directly under Bandit, who had taken it upon himself to crawl on top of Blitz and push his weight down on him.

Blitz, meanwhile, had locked up the second his back hit the ground, lying frozen, eyes wide with fright. Bandit still didn't speak. Instead, he reached up to the wall behind him, fingers reaching for something - a switch on the wall, Blitz realized - and with a click, both operators were consumed in darkness, excluding the small slants of white coming from the sides of the door.

Thrown into shadow, still feeling the pressure of Bandit's iron grip, Blitz's mind was racing. All his suppressed fears of Dominic broke free - the man who had went undercover with Hell's Angels, the man who had subjected his own twin brother to electric shock on the basis of some sick joke, the man who had killed and dealt drugs and was about to murder Blitz right inside a storage room. How stupid to think that such a person would react fondly to a declaration of affection.

"Dominic, I said I was sorry," Blitz gasped out, trying to put some force behind his words. "I won't mention it again, understand? None of the GSGs know. Our conversation will have never existed."

Since Bandit hadn't answered to any of his other pleas, Blitz half-expected yet again no response, and was therefore caught off-guard when Bandit suddenly laughed - a low, delicate chuckle - and tilted his head.

"You're terrible at hiding things - you know that, right?" Bandit's eyes were glimmering in the darkness, his tone playful. Blitz realized with a jolt that his confession had already been discovered, that Bandit had just been waiting for him to say it aloud. How long had he known?

Blitz stared back up at the man. The fear had faded, replaced by a curiousity that made him rethink his current situation. Meanwhile, Bandit patiently straddled him, watching with a languid expression as understanding bloomed on Blitz's face, his cheeks flushing as he put two and two together.

"So you're not going to kill me," Blitz finally said.

Bandit huffed. "Of course not, dumbass. Why would I do that?"

Feeling a bit dense, Blitz shook his head in response, turning away to look at the wall. "Ah - no reason."

Blitz breath was shaky as he felt a hand wrap around his, still holding him down, entrapping him in the other operator's grip. _You're fine. You're safe._ He flinched at Bandit's touch, then forced himself to relax. Still a tad weary that Bandit was going to jab him in the chest, he then shifted his legs, trying to get into a more comfortable position in the cramped aisle.

Even though Blitz could not fully see Bandit in the darkness, he noticed more intimate characteristics - Dominic's breathing was steady, and he smelled of burnt wires, a fragrance that was oddly comforting to Blitz. Closing his eyes, Blitz let his head rest on the floor and tightened his grip on Bandit's hand. In turn, Dominic whispered words that didn't quite reach his ears - fragmented reassurances, ones that Blitz did not understand yet relaxed him anyway.

Still, Blitz reacted with somewhat of a jolt when he felt Bandit's other hand at his crotch. He hadn't realized that he was already hard, and was sensitive enough down there that even a faint pressure to the area made him shudder. Blitz made eye contact with Bandit and immediately regretted it - Dominic's brows were raised, and mischief danced in his eyes as he assessed the reaction.

"Already?" Was all Bandit said, but Blitz knew better than to think that the man would get it over with quickly. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when there was another teasing stroke, more intense than the first yet lasting for only a second. Squirming under him, Blitz shut his eyes again and cursed in German. The urge to punch Bandit in the face for being such a tease was almost unbearable as his arousal for him.

"Just hurry up with it, before somebody comes looking for us," Blitz finally whispered through gritted teeth. He couldn't bear to imagine Marius walking in on this, and one of the other operators were bound to be searching for them by now. _Were they even allowed to be doing this_? The thought caused Blitz's heart to speed up, partly in fear, partly in excitement.

Bandit didn't say anything. His only response was to move his weight so that he was practically kneading at Blitz's lower regions with his thigh, pushing the man's legs apart to accommodate for the gapfill. Back arching, Blitz let out a strangled noise as Dominic picked up speed at a torturing pace. For the entire time, Blitz's head was full of static - he couldn't form any cohesive thought as Bandit brought him closer to the edge.

This time - to Blitz's eternal gratitude - Bandit continued past that point. He quickly switched tact and let Blitz have one last grind up against him, causing Blitz to spasm silently as he rode out his climax, making only a small, pleasurable noise that barely could be heard by Bandit. For the entire time, he had been holding Blitz down, and only relaxed his grip afterwards.

Lying there, Blitz's mind foggy from the release of pent-up tension, he didn't even care that Bandit's weight had lifted and the lights had turned back on. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Dominic stood, brushed himself off, and tucked his new pair of sights into his back pocket as if nothing had ever happened. Then, Bandit paused and looked back down at Blitz. His eyes were bright.

"Hope you'll return the favor next time, Elias," he whispered, then held out his gloved hand. Taking it, Blitz stood, though his knees were weak and his balance shaky.

"Sure," Blitz got out. "So - does this mean we're a thing now?" He knew he would have to wash his pants, but at the moment, he was only thinking about Bandit.

Dominic had already reached the door when he turned round and winked. "Thanks for the sights," was all he responded with, and he walked out of the supply room, closing the door behind him.


End file.
